“Why didn’t you protect me from…?”
I wrote the first installment of the apology letter I was asked to write from the one I loved to me. I hated every part of it. Ever since I wrote it last night, my stomach has been so upset and my nerves have been shot. No matter what I’m doing, the way my body and mind are responding is like it feels when someone is rushing me or constantly yelling at me to get something done. It is an awful feeling.
To be protected is the one desire I have had for as long as I can remember. Protecting someone comes from the heart. There is a dedication to the person or place they are protecting. Dedication means being wholly committed to someone or something. To me, it’s a feeling that is like being enveloped in a warm blanket and held tight through a storm.
There were so many ways I’d hoped he’d protect me, like standing up for me to those who didn’t like me for whatever reason, from his affairs and the choices he made that held consequences that would effect all of us. I wished he’d cared enough to protect me, but, since he didn’t, I truly wish I’d heard the words I wrote so there would have, at least, been some sign of caring.
What made it so difficult to write is that those words never came out of his mouth. I honestly doubt if they even entered his mind, especially as the years went by and he got deeper and deeper into his addictions. I don’t understand how this helps at the moment. It would have been nice if he had said these things, but when I thought about this over the years, it just made me sad and I always pushed it away feeling like I was not deserving of love and protection. It made me wish for something that never happened and never will happen. To dwell on something that will never be puts me in a place of coveting. What good does this do me to go there? It just seems cruel and like I’ve ripped off the scabs on so many wounds.
Hopefully I didn’t do this for nothing. Maybe my counselor can take it to a positive place.
I just hope it’s soon, because I can’t live in this state of being for long.
~ Joanna Lynn